


Audio Only

by SeeTheVision



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Lee Jeno is Whipped, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, zoom university 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeTheVision/pseuds/SeeTheVision
Summary: That’s by far the most annoying thing about classes over video conference. Jeno’s been listening to sexy-voice Mark Lee flip class discussions upside down for nearly two months, and he still has no idea what the dude looks like because he never has his camera on.(in which 2020 sucks and Jeno still manages to fall in love)
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Mark Lee
Comments: 98
Kudos: 559





	Audio Only

**Author's Note:**

> this one goes out to all my fellow struggling college students

Jeno hates online school. He hates the technological glitches, the way Zoom crashes every other week and the way his 50-something-year-old history professor struggles to share his screen. He hates being so far from the campus library(which is thankfully still open, even as the classrooms stand empty) And sure, sometimes it’s nice to attend lectures in pajamas, but that means that Jeno’s been wearing the same pair of sweatpants for the past three days. After all, the only people who see more of him than what his webcam captures are his roommates, and they’ve seen him far worse. But the most frustrating thing is—

“So,” a deep voice crackles across Jeno’s laptop speakers, “are we just not gonna talk about how Nick is super gay for Gatsby?”

Jeno ducks his head to hide his smile from his webcam, not bothering to look at the screen. He knows what he’ll see: a black screen, blank save for the name _Mark Lee._

That’s by far the most annoying thing about classes over video conference. Jeno’s been listening to sexy-voice Mark Lee flip class discussions upside down for nearly two months, and he still has no idea what the dude looks like because he never has his camera on.

“Thank you for that insight, Mr. Lee.” The professor reappears on-screen, not looking thankful in the slightest. “Now, as we were saying about the American Dream—”

“The American Dream is built on heteronormative ideals,” Mark interjects.

Other students pipe up about the exclusion of other minority groups in American culture and ideals, and Jeno makes sure he’s muted before letting out a sigh. He’s half in love with this Mark guy already.

  
  
  
  
  


“Let me guess,” says Jaemin before Jeno can even open his mouth, “Mark Lee said something intelligent, witty, and/or sexy during your English class?”

“All of the above,” corrects Jeno, collapsing into a chair while Donghyuck sets a pot of spaghetti atop their tiny dining table.

Chenle rolls his eyes. “At this point, I’m pretty sure Mark could talk about the weather and you’d hail him as the next Shakespeare.”

“Shut up,” Jeno huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

As aggravating as they can be, Jeno’s pretty sure his roommates are the only things keeping him sane at this point. He’s not an extrovert by any means, but the ever-lengthening months of quarantine and social distancing would have driven him crazy without the three other stressed college students he shares his living space with. Since none of them have anything to do in the evenings anymore(worldwide pandemics have a tendency to put a damper on the party scene), they have dinner together most nights.

“And you still don’t know what he looks like?” asks Donghyuck.

“Nope,” Jeno admits. “I bet he’s hot, though.”

“He could be a literal troll for all you know,” Donghyuck points out.

“I guess,” concedes Jeno, “but I think he’s smart enough to be sexy no matter what he looks like.”

“Pretty sure people usually say that the other way around,” Chenle giggles.

“Jeno probably thinks he’s hot enough for the both of them,” snorts Jaemin.

“Shut up! I just find his intelligence attractive. And his voice,” he adds as an afterthought.

“True love, blossoming amid the apocalypse,” says Jaemin, pretending to wipe a tear from his cheek.

“If Jeno ever gets the nerve to talk to him,” Donghyuck interjects.

“Hey,” Jeno protests, “it’s not a matter of nerve, I don’t have an opportunity! It’s not like I can DM him on Canvas.”

“Okay, true,” says Donghyuck, “but would you shoot your shot if you had the chance?”

  
  
  
  


“I hope you’ve all finished reading the book,” says the professor, “because I’m going to divide you into groups. Each group will analyze one chapter and lead a class discussion.” Jeno, his microphone safely muted, lets out a groan. Seriously, they’re in the middle of a pandemic, taking all their classes remotely, and they’re _still_ expected to do group projects? “Since our class size is so small,” she continues, “most groups will have three members, and a few will have only two. You’ll be in break-out groups for the rest of the class period, but you’ll have to spend some time outside of class. You’ll find your chapter assignments on Canvas. Have fun!”

Jeno takes the few seconds while Zoom redirects to curse his professor, COVID-19, F. Scott Fitzgerald—

But maybe the _entire_ universe isn’t against him, because the name _Mark Lee_ is on his screen.

“Uh, hey. Jeno, right?”

“Yeah. Obviously, my name is on the screen.” Jeno withholds a wince at how obnoxious that sounds.

Mark laughs, and Jeno breathes a sigh of relief. He’s never heard Mark laugh before, and it’s different than he would have expected, higher-pitched than his speaking voice and kind of hiccupy, but Jeno finds he likes it. He wonders what it sounds like in person.

“Okay, fair enough. And I’m Mark, obviously. Sorry my camera’s not on, the wifi in my dorm sucks. And also I’m not wearing a shirt. Is that too much information?”

Jeno wheezes out a laugh, his mind trying and failing to come up with an image of a shirtless Mark. He doesn’t even know what Mark looks like _with_ a shirt on, let alone without one. “No dude, you’re fine. What chapter are we supposed to be looking at?”

“Uhhhh looks like chapter seven.”

Jeno flips open his well-worn copy of _The Great Gatsby._ “That’s the one with the car accident, right?”

Despite not being able to see his face, Jeno finds it easier than he expected to talk to Mark. They almost immediately get sidetracked talking about their respective majors(English with an emphasis in Creative Writing for Mark, History for Jeno). By they return to discussing the book, the class period is nearly over.

“Guess we’ll have to finish up another time. Are you in town? We could meet at the library,” suggests Mark sheepishly. “I feel bad making you talk to a blank screen

Jeno tries to reel in his enthusiasm for this suggestion. “That works for me,” he replies, voice remarkably calm considering the victory dance his heart is doing against his ribcage. “You free tomorrow afternoon?”

  
  
  


The silence of the library presses heavily on Jeno’s shoulders, the tell-tale smell of disinfectant that seems to be everywhere these days stinging his nose. There are a few other students, hunched over their laptops with their headphones, taking advantage of the university WiFi to tune into their Zoom classes, but Jeno feels a bit like a ghost haunting an empty building. It’s hard to connect this place to the bustle of last year, when the brick walls and wooden shelves were made warm with the smell of coffee and the murmur of quiet conversations.

The quiet notification of an incoming text makes Jeno jump. He shakes his head to rid it of dreary thoughts and checks the notification. It’s a message from Donghyuck to their group chat: _good luck jeno_ , accompanied by an abundance of winky faces. The other boys join in, flooding the chat with suggestive emojis. Jeno locks his phone without responding.

“Jeno? Is that you?”

The voice is familiar, yet not. There’s a resonance that laptop speakers never fully capture, but it’s unmistakably the same boy. Jeno looks up and chokes on the polite greeting on his tongue. Either he’s out of practice with social interaction, or he’s simply rendered speechless by the sight of possibly the cutest boy he’s ever seen— well, from what he can see of his face at least. A nondescript black mask covers his nose and mouth, but the boy somehow manages to convey as much expression with just his round eyes and arched eyebrows as most people can with their entire face. 

“Hey Mark,” Jeno finally manages to say, glad that his eyes can smile when his mouth is hidden, “nice hair.”

Mark tugs absently at a strand of bubblegum pink falling across his forehead. “Thanks. Quarantine made me do it.”

“Well, a boredom dye-job is better than a metal breakdown dye-job,” Jeno points out as Mark takes a seat across the table from him— properly socially distanced, of course. Jeno’s eyes take the opportunity to map out as much of the other boy as he can. A slim waist and broad shoulders under a simple black t-shirt, nondescript jeans that do nothing to stop Jeno from noticing that _damn,_ this guy has _thighs_. The edge of a sharp jawline barely peeks out from behind his mask and Jeno desperately wants to know what the rest of his face looks like, but now is not the time.

Mark tugs a battered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ from his backpack and flips it open. “Damn, this chapter is so fucked up.”

Jeno stifles a laugh behind his hand. “That’s one way to put it.”

Mark’s laugh is even more vibrant in person, Jeno learns over the next hour, earning annoyed looks from the few others in the library. It shouldn't take them long to go through the chapter, making notes on symbolism and foreshadowing, but Mark keeps bringing up interesting points and Jeno can’t help but fall into conversation, ignoring the shared Google doc pulled up on both their laptops.

“I feel so bad for Nick though,” Jeno says as they finally make their way to the final few pages. “Crushing on a straight guy and everything.” He keeps his eyes on his laptop but carefully monitors Mark’s reaction from the corner of his eye. His gaydar is usually pretty good, but it never hurts to be sure.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Mark sighs, and Jeno is suddenly grateful for his mask as he fights back a smile.

  
  
  


“Oh hey Jen,” greets Chenle from the sofa as Jeno lets himself into the apartment. “How did it go?”

“I’m in love,” Jeno announces.

Chenle cackles and Jaemin sticks his head in from the kitchen with a grin. “So, you finally know what your mystery crush looks like?”

“Yeah! Well, kind of.”

“What do you mean kind of?” asks Chenle.

Jeno unhooks his mask from his ears and waves it in Chenle’s face. “Pandemic, remember?”

“You didn’t get his Instagram or anything?” Chenle raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Oh,” Jeno deflates, cursing himself for his stupidity. “No, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Aw, it’s okay Jeno,” Jaemin coos in that horrible baby voice. “He probably isn’t as attracted to intelligence as you are, so he won’t mind that you’re a bit dumb.”

“Jaemin, I will not hesitate to murder you.”

“Don’t murder him until he finishes the dishes,” hollers Donghyuck from the kitchen.

“It’s not even my turn, dickwad,” retorts Jaemin as he returns to the kitchen, presumably to fight Donghyuck over cleanup duty.

“For real, Jeno, don’t worry about it,” says Chenle with an encouraging smile. “You still have his number, right? It’s not like that was your only chance.”

  
  
  
  


Jeno feels old, which is stupid. He’s just barely out of the nest, with his whole life ahead of him, but sometimes he feels like he's let life pass by like a parade, watching without participating. His friends like to joke that he’s really an old man trapped in the body of a twenty-year-old, and maybe they’re right. He's lived so long. He's barely begun. Maybe he’s destined to die young, and that's why he feels as though his best years are already behind him.

Or maybe it's just the fact that he's spent most of the last several months in his apartment, a computer screen his only window to the world. He's a twenty-year-old college student for goodness sake! These are supposed to be the good years, the time for risks and mistakes and self-discovery. He should be meeting people, going to parties, falling in love and falling out again. Instead, he's crushing on a guy who's whole face he hasn't even _seen._

"You're moping," says Jaemin, unimpressed.

"I'm not," Jeno mumbles into his pillow, the words getting stuck in the stuffing, but Jaemin is well-versed in Jeno-pillow communication and has no problem understanding.

"You are," he insists, flopping onto the bed half on top of Jeno. “Tell me what’s up.”

Jeno shifts as much as he can with Jaemin’s legs thrown over his, turning his face away from the pillow to look at his friend. “It’s just...everything, I guess. It’s getting to me.”

Jaemin hums in sympathy, hooking an arm around Jeno’s waist. “I get that. It’s been rough. I’d have gone crazy if it weren’t for you guys.”

“Me too.”

After a few minutes of companionable silence, Jaemin pokes him lightly in the ribs. “What’s up with Mark?”

Jeno sighs, wishing Jaemin wasn’t quite so good at reading him. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know.” They’d given their presentation over Zoom a few days ago, and it went fine. They got full points on the assignment and that was that. Jeno hasn’t heard from Mark since and hasn’t been able to work up the nerve to text him first.

“Jeno,” Jaemin pokes him in the ribs again, harder. “Text him.”

“I can’t just text him, what would I say?”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to let him know you’re interested in talking to him,” Jaemin insists. “Ask for his Instagram or something so we can finally see what he looks like.”

“Oh come on,” Jeno snorts, “I can’t just say _hey Mark tell me your social media so I can ogle your face.”_

“Why not?” argues Jaemin. “Life’s too short to beat around the bush, and if you embarrass yourself you _literally_ never have to see him again.”

He makes some good points, Jeno thinks begrudgingly. Who knows when another chance to make a romantic connection might come along? He won’t be young forever. “Fine, I’ll text him.”

Jaemin’s delighted squeal brings Chenle and Donghyuck to their bedroom door “What’s the excitement about,” yawns Chenle, still in his pajamas at 4 p.m.

“Jeno’s texting Mark,” Jaemin informs them.

“About time,” says Donghyuck, shoving Jeno and Jaemin until they sit up and make room on Jeno’s narrow bed for the four of them to huddle around Jeno’s phone.

“What do I say?” Jeno frets.

“Just ask him how he’s been,” Chenle suggests.

“Ask him how he likes his eggs in the morning,” giggles Donghyuck, earning an elbow in the side from Jeno.

After far too much heckling and to the disappointment of his onlookers, Jeno settles on a simple _hey whats up?_

“Boo,” Donghyuck complains. 

“Shut up,” Jeno snaps, knuckles white as he grips his phone. “Ugh, I feel so stupid!”

Chenle immediately breaks into a lovely rendition of Stupid With Love from the Mean Girls musical, which doesn’t help.

The phone buzzes and Jeno reflexively tosses it across the room, where it bounces off Jaemin’s bed and hits the floor with a thump.

“Jeno,” Jaemin cackles, “go get it, you fool!”

Chagrined, Jeno disentangles himself from the pile of limbs and snatches up his phone, unlocking it with slightly trembling fingers. God, why is he so worked up about a boy he hardly knows?

_hey jeno! its been a while haha how are you?_

  
  
  


Once the ice is broken, Jeno finds it ridiculously easy to talk to Mark. They have the same taste in memes, which is pretty much the most important factor in 21st-century communication, but Jeno finds himself more and more fascinated with the way Mark thinks. He’ll send paragraphs rambling about the smallest things, and it never fails to make Jeno smile. Mark seems to see the beauty in everything, something Jeno’s been missing the past few months.

 _jeno!_ Mark texts one evening as Jeno purposely ignores an essay he’s supposed to be writing, _are you seeing the sunset rn??_

 _nah,_ Jeno sends back, _my apt is east of campus, so i cant see it from here._ Come to think of it, Jeno can’t remember the last time he watched the sunset.

_jenoooooo you gotta see it! my dorm is on the west of campus, meet me by the soccer field?_

Jeno glances at his laptop, which he’s avoided for so long that the screen has gone black, and decides the essay wasn’t going to be written tonight anyway.

_ok be there in a few_

He grabs a mask and his jacket, tries in vain to make his hair look presentable, and slips out of the apartment before his roommates can question him.

By the time Jeno cuts across campus to the soccer field, the sky has faded from fiery orange to soft purples, casting the world in a sleepy haze. A lone figure stands by the bleachers, raising an arm in greeting.

“Hey,” says Mark, his deep voice sending a shiver down Jeno’s spine.

“Hey.”

Neither boy speaks for a long time after that. They stand six feet apart, masked faces turned to the western horizon as the colors slowly bleed from the sky and the first stars peek from the velvet night.

“That was nice,” Jeno finally murmurs as the last vestiges of sun fade from the sky.

“Right?” Mark beams, and Jeno wishes he could see the smile that lights up Mark’s eyes. “Man, I wish we could hang out more, like, in normal circumstances, but it’s really nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Mark,” Jeno replies around the sudden lump in his throat. “Thanks for getting me out of my room, I was going a bit crazy.”

Mark laughs, loud and squeaky and utterly endearing. “Oh my god, me too. I spend way too much time online trying to substitute for the lack of human contact.” Jeno groans in sympathy and Mark laughs again. “Hey, do you have Instagram or anything?”

  
  
  


Nightfall brings a drop in temperature, but Jeno’s nearly steaming with warmth as he treks back across campus, his phone seeming hot in his pocket. He waits until he’s safely back in his room to stalk Mark’s social media.

Not that it does much good, because the shriek he lets out when the Instagram account loads has all three of his roommates poking concerned faces around the doorframe.

“Jen? You good?” ventures Jaemin.

“He’s so hot,” Jeno wails, “oh my _god,_ he’s so _hot.”_

The other three descend on his phone like a flock of vultures tearing into a carcass. Jeno fights to keep hold of it, but it’s a losing battle.

“Damn, those cheekbones,” Chenle whistles appreciatively before Donghyuck snatches the device and scrolls.

“Oh my god, his _smile,”_ he coos, turning the screen to Jeno, who wants to cry because how can someone so _hot_ be so _adorable?_

 _“And_ he’s smart? _And_ he likes boys?” marvels Jaemin in disbelief. “How did Jeno manage to find the most perfect boy in existence?”

Jeno finally manages to snatch his phone back just as a Snapchat notification pops up on the screen. He flinches at the chorus of screeching from his friends.

“Let us see!” begs Chenle as Jeno shoves him toward the door.

“No,” says Jeno, hugging his phone protectively to his chest. “Go away, let me pine in peace.” 

  
  
  


Finally putting a face—a whole face, and a very handsome one at that—to the voice and personality takes Jeno’s feelings from infatuation to...well, he’s not sure what it is. ‘Crush’ doesn’t really cut it, but he wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s really in _love._ Not yet, at least. Suffice it to say that Jeno really, _really_ likes Mark.

“You should tell him,” Jaemin insists. 

“No! Are you insane?”

“For once, I agree with Jaemin,” says Donghyuck, muting the television and focusing all his attention on Jeno.

“Me too,” Chenle adds. “You’re outvoted.”

“My love life is _not_ a democracy!” Jeno scowls at his laughing friends. 

“Maybe if it was you’d have a boyfriend by now,” Chenle retorts, dodging the pillow Jeno aims for his head.

“What’s the point, anyway?” groans Jeno, slumping against Jaemin’s shoulder with a return of his existential dread. “It’s not like we can, like, date or cuddle or kiss anyway.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Long-distance relationships exist, Jeno.”

“Long-distance,” Jeno huffs, “he literally lives across campus.”

“It’s 2020,” Jaemin shrugs. “Normal rules are out the window. I’m sure you’re not the only one falling in love from six feet away.”

“Damn,” Chenle says, impressed, “that was pretty poetic, Jaem.”

“Thanks,” Jaemin grins, “I try. Just think about it, okay Jeno? If he’s as smart as you say, then he likes you too. Anyone with half a brain would.”

  
  
  


_hey mark, this is kinda sudden but i wanted to tell you that i like you a lot. youre sweet, funny, and hella smart. i understand if you dont feel the same, i know we havent known each other long. id really like to stay friends though, so feel free to pretend this never happened!_

His thumb hovers over the send button for an embarrassingly long time. It's not too late to change his mind. That's the thing about virtual conversations; as long as his words remain in his text input box, Jeno can change them, edit them, or delete them. Spoken words aren't so easy to take back. Once a secret leaves a mouth, it's gone for good. Fingers hold on to secrets much better.

He presses send and sets his phone face-down on his bed. One shaky breath in, and he holds it. Confessing over text isn’t ideal, but as Jaemin said, all rules are out the window in 2020. He hopes Mark won’t hold it against him. 

When his phone buzzes with an incoming text, Jeno strikes like a viper, snatching up the device and unlocking it with trembling fingers.

_can i call u?_

Jeno barely sends an affirmative response before the call comes in, flashing Mark's contact information.

He doesn't have a contact photo. _Mark Lee_ and eleven digits on an otherwise black screen.

It takes seven seconds for Jeno to accept the call.

"Hey," he almost whispers, not sure how much he trusts his voice.

"Jeno." Mark's voice is familiar, more familiar to Jeno than anything else about him. "Did you mean all that?"

“I, uh,” Jeno gulps, trying to steady his voice. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh thank _god.”_

Whatever response Jeno was expecting, that wasn’t it. “What?”

“Dude,” Mark’s half-laughing, struggling to articulate his words, “I’ve had a crush on you, like, all semester.”

“ _What?”_

“For real! How could I not? I can’t believe you look that good over a Zoom conference, what the hell.”

Jeno’s laughing now too. “Are you kidding me? I’ve had a crush on _you_ all semester!”

“ _What?”_ Mark practically screeches. “But I never had my camera on!”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re smart and your voice is sexy. Your hot face and nice ass are just a bonus.”

Mark makes a choking noise, and Jeno laughs harder. “ _Jeno!_ You can’t just say stuff like that!” he complains, but Jeno can hear the pleased smile in his voice.

Their laughter trails off into a few seconds of relieved silence before Jeno says, “So… what now?”

“I wish I could take you out. Like, on a date, not with a sniper.”

“Thanks for clarifying.”

“No problem.” Mark sighs heavily. “Damn, this sucks. Will you be my boyfriend even though we can’t like, hold hands or whatever?”

Jeno smiles against the ache in his chest. “Yes. Our first kiss better be epic when it finally happens, though.”

“It will be, don’t worry.” 

“Are you _smirking_ at me right now, Mark?”

Mark laughs, and Jeno _wishes_ he could hear it in person.

  
  
  


The next morning, as Jeno ventures out of his apartment to buy milk, he nearly trips on a bouquet of pink camellias left outside his door. He gingerly picks it up, glancing down the hallway but seeing no one. A note is nestled between the stems, bright white against the green. Jeno’s cheeks bloom as pink as the flowers as he reads:

_One day, Jeno Lee, I'm going to kiss you._

**Author's Note:**

> (Mark got Jeno’s dorm address from his snapchat location and then bugged the RA into telling him which unit was Jeno’s)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision)  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/riahsvision/)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)


End file.
